Not So Tender Love And Care
by guineamania
Summary: Courfeyrac is sick in bed but thankfully Grantaire, Feuilly and Bahorel are on hand to entertain him. Combeferre's right to be worried


_**30/5/13**_

**Here's a one-shot written for a faithful reviewer of mine: stagepageandscreen! Hope you enjoy this little Courfeyrac sick piece.**

**Not So Tender Love and Care**

When Combeferre entered Courfeyrac's apartment to pick him up for university, he certainly didn't expect to be met with a chaotic room. Tissues, empty tablet boxes and empty tissue boxes were scattered across the floor and spluttering coughs emanated from the double bed on the corner of the room. Most of Courfeyrac's single bed apartment was open plan and so it was simple for Combeferre to see what state his friend was in before he even set foot in the flat. Courfeyrac hardly ever got sick; but when he did get sick, he was_really_ sick. That was one of those times. Combeferre let out an exasperated sigh, stepping over the debris littering the room. "Courf, how you holding up?" Combeferre asked, sitting on the bed, next to the bulge in the covers. A moan emanated from the bulge as a response. Combeferre slowly pulled the covers off the young revolutionary to reveal his ill form. Courfeyrac was shivering with sweat beading on his brow; he was sniffling every second or two and pouting at the medical student.

"Oh Courf, poor baby," Combeferre sighed once he had given Courfeyrac a professional check-up. All of the Amis seemed to hate hospital for some absurd reason; unless either of their resident medical students were on duty. "You've got a cold with a fever. Bed rest and these," Combeferre diagnosed and laid two packets of tablets on the bedside table. "And a lot of care and supervision from friends," he smiled and Courfeyrac could not hold back a small smile of relief and appreciation at his friend's concern. "Now let's find you something to entertain yourself before the horde descends upon you," Combeferre chuckled but as soon as the words left his mouth, the door thumped open. "And too late," he added, rolling his eyes at Grantaire and Bahorel's dramatic entrance.

"We bring DVDs and beer!" Grantaire exclaimed as he strolled in, effortlessly avoiding the things scattered on the floor.

"My saviours!" Courfeyrac shouted before bursting into a coughing fit.

"No alcohol Robin!" Combeferre shouted, looking sternly at all three men. "No alcohol with the tablets," he insisted.

"I know 'Ferre! I am not completely irresponsible," Bahorel replied, lifting a crate of non-alcoholic beer onto the table alongside Grantaire's crates of normal beer.

"What would I do without you guys?" Courfeyrac sniffed, trying to sit up properly. Combeferre helped him out of the bed and onto the couch in front of his massive flat screen TV. Grantaire and Bahorel had set up a mass of blankets and beer bottles are around the TV and were sprawled on the floor. "So what first?" Grantaire asked, popping the top off a bottle.

"I know what," a voice stated from the doorway and everyone turned.

"Foo," Courfeyrac smiled, up to his chin in blankets and pillows. He was still weak but the arrival of his closest friends had considerably lightened Courfeyrac's attitude. Feuilly strolled in looking around him and fell backwards into the pillow avalanche. He threw Grantaire a DVD and the drunkard grinned at the sight.

"Excellent choice," he grinned, downing half the bottle of beer.

"I'll see you later, you seem in capable hands," Combeferre smiled, waving goodbye to the raggedy bunch gathered around the ill Courfeyrac. The screen lit up and Robin Hood began to play.

When Combeferre returned after his shift at the hospital, he couldn't bear to break up the scene that met him. The Doctor Who theme tune played softly in the background from the forgotten screen. Courfeyrac was still in the same position the doctor had left him in but with empty non-alcoholic beer bottles scattered around him. His fever had broken and he seemed to be able to breathe easier now. However he seemed to have acquired a new headrest; Feuilly was curled up next to the ill revolutionary with Courfeyrac's head resting on his slowly rising and falling chest. Grantaire and Bahorel were spread out on the floor but close enough to touch their charge. Grantaire's head was soft resting on Courfeyrac's dangling leg and they all seemed content. Grantaire slowly blinked awake as Combeferre entered the room. "Hey 'Ferre," Grantaire smiled, weakly. Combeferre was about to reply, when a little kitten like sneeze came from the drunkard. "I think I may have caught something," Grantaire grinned timidly and Combeferre sighed in desperation.

**Robin Hood mention for my beta … happy now Ellie?**


End file.
